


you believe in something i can't define

by whataboutateakettle



Series: Five Stages of Truth (or Dare) [4]
Category: Scorpion (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M, You Have Been Warned, hella angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-20
Updated: 2015-04-20
Packaged: 2018-03-24 23:53:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3788968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whataboutateakettle/pseuds/whataboutateakettle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Everyone leaves, I shouldn’t have pretended otherwise.” // Depression.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you believe in something i can't define

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I feel like I should apologise in advance bc this chapter will leave no one feeling good. But that's why I wanted to post it before the finale actually aired bc I'll probably be too emotionally damaged to be able to deal with this afterwards.  
> (It's also way shorter than other chapters but really do you want me to prolong the pain?)

She rushes into the garage, slamming the door behind her. She doesn’t care that it probably makes Sylvester flinch, or that Paige just tried to say hello to her. _She doesn’t care_. She throws her bag on her desk; knocking over an open box of nails with a small crash. She ignores it, continues to the back of the garage, past Walter working with something in a cage, to her space at the back.

She needs to find something to do. To take her mind of this before she hurts someone. Or starts crying.

“ _Hey_ ,” Toby says tentatively from behind her. Of course he’ there. She imagines him watching her come in, concerned look on his face. He’s the only one who knows why she’s late.

“How was breakfast with your dad?” He asks. She grabs the nearest solid thing, a crowbar and drops it to the floor. The loud noise is supposed to deter him, but it also answers his question.

“What happened?” He asks again, this time sounds like he’s stepped much closer. She’s not surprised when she turns around and he’s right behind her, looking like he wants to hug her. _Please don’t_ , she thinks. She can’t do this now.

She stares back at him for a moment. “He’s leaving,” she answers, pushes past him.

“What do you mean?” He catches her arm before she can get too far away. She pulls it out of his grip, but stays.

“He’s can’t afford to keep running the shop, the banks are forcing him to close up or pay up. He has a friend in Phoenix who has a shop, offered him a job.”

“And he’s taking it?”

She shrugs, “He says he hasn’t decided yet, but it’s his only option.”

His hand is on her arm now, gently resting, his thumb grazing her sleeve. “Phoenix isn’t that far. You guys can still have a relationsh-”

She shrugs again, hard enough to knock his hand off. “Doesn’t matter. He’s going to leave. Just like he did before,” She moves out of his reach, picks up the crowbar from the floor, stares at it in her hands. He needs to stop looking at her like _that_. “Everyone leaves, I shouldn’t have pretended otherwise.”

“ _Happy -”_ He sounds almost desperate.

“Lay off, Doc,” She says, putting force into her words. “I was stupid to think this could actually work out.”

She’s talking about her dad. But also, she’s not.

* * *

She knocks on his door. So she may have implied that she was done with him, and refused to talk to him since their conversation that morning. But she’s been restless all evening. She’s even pulled her microwave apart and rebuilt it twice; if she had the right parts at home she could have added an extra setting. She needs him to do what he does best and take her mind off things, distract her with fun and simple.  

When he doesn’t answer, she knocks harder. Still no answer. She wonders whether he’s asleep, even though it’s barely 10pm. So she glances down the hallway, before picking the lock and letting herself in.

He’s not home. She checks the bedroom, bathroom, before standing pointlessly in the living room and looking around. She tries calling him, and it goes straight to voicemail.  

 _Typical_. This is typical Toby. As if she needed more or a reminder that she couldn’t rely on anyone.

She stays though, stays for more than an hour. Helps herself to a beer, flips through the channels until she lands on some movie she’s never seen. It’s halfway through but she watches anyway, piecing together the plot. She feels almost at home in this place now, considers waiting until he comes home.

She calls him again when the credits are rolling, his voicemail taunts her. She hangs up before the beep, leaves, locks the door behind her.

* * *

The next morning, he comes in with two coffees and bags under his eyes and his hat smells of smoke. She’s equal parts angry and curious, but she refuses to ask him where he was. He can do what he wants.

She’s tired too. She pulled the microwave apart two more times when she got home last night, couldn’t even be bothered to put it back together. It’s still sitting in pieces on her kitchen floor. She’s not even sure what she was trying to do. But the monotony of the familiar pieces took her mind off her dad, and off the fact that she had no idea where Toby was.

She watches wordlessly as he places one of the coffee cups on her desk. He looks like he wants to say something, half apologetic, half concerned. He must know she was there last night; she left her half empty beer bottle on his counter. In the end, he smiles at her, raises his eyebrows pointedly before heading over to his own desk.

She picks up the coffee. It’s not what she usually drinks, prefers it just black on regular morning. This is something she only drinks as a treat, much sweeter. She must’ve told him about this once, who knows how long ago. The fact that he remembered makes her feel weird, leaves a bitter tastes in her mouth.

He’s talking to Sylvester now, but glances over at her, looks almost hopeful when he sees her holding the cup. She drops it in the bin in the bin next to her desk, refuses to look back at him. Hope’s never really worked out for any of them anyway. 

* * *

She pounds on his door, doesn’t care about his neighbours this time. He better be home otherwise she’s going to hack and trace his phone. The idiot, he actually  _is_ crazy if he thought –

“You’re going to break my door,” he says pointedly after he pulls it open.

She pushes past him, stands in the middle of his living room with crossed arms until he closes the door behind her and meets her there. He doesn’t look particularly surprised she’s there, just waiting for her to actually say something.

“I just talked to my dad and his loans have been paid,” she says bluntly. Remembers for a moment the incredulous look on his face when he tells her, the flight of happiness she felt before she figured it out.

“That’s great, isn’t it?” He asks.

She narrows her eyes. They’re both too smart to play this game. “ _He_ didn’t pay them. Someone hacked into his bank account and put the money there.”

His lips quirk up when he looks at her. “You think it was me?”

She huffs, steps closer to him. “You were the only one who knew. How did you even get that much money?”

He looks at her for a moment, considering his words. “I won it.” His voice is low, and she knows he’s telling the truth. Her gut clenches for a second, as it always does when it comes to Toby and gambling. The amount of money in her dad’s account meant that he’d played at the big tables. And the bigger the table, the bigger the risk.

“You told me you stopped gambling like that.”

 He shrugs, like the whole thing doesn’t even matter. He looks tense though, she can tell. She’s been around him long enough to be able to tell when he’s holding something back. “Yeah, wel,l this was important.”

“I don’t need you to fix my dad’s problems,” she bites. “Or mine.”

“But _I_ need to,” he says, voice rising, finally losing his cool.

“What are you talking about?”

He steps forward, close enough now to put his hands on her arms. “Happy, _I love you_. I’m in love with you and I’ve tried keeping those words to myself because I know you aren’t ready to hear them from me. But I can’t sit back and watch you hurt, when there was something I can do. Your dad can have a fresh start, here in LA. I know that means something to you.”

She’s staring at him, his eyes are wide staring straight back at her and she wants to blink but she’s stuck. Finally, she swallow the lump in her throat, shakes her head. “You can’t just-” she pulls herself out of his grip. “I need some space.” She pushes past him.

“ _Happy!_ ” He calls out when she’s already at his door. She pauses for second, but doesn’t turn around before she leaves.  

She storms down the stairs and drives her truck away before she can even catch her breath. She knew how he felt, somewhere subconsciously, she knew this whole time.  But the words hit her so hard she feels winded, they’re wrapped around her throat and squeezing it shut. He can’t love her, because people who love her _leave_. They always have. For one reason or another. Her dad. Her mother. Her exes.

Except now her dad is staying. Because of him.

* * *

She drives home on autopilot, walks past the torn apart microwave on her floor and rips off her clothes before getting into the shower. The hot water soaks her quickly, numbs her skin, weighs down her hair. She closes her eyes, but all she can see is his face staring at her. Of course she knew. She knew and she let him. She did this to herself.

Finally, she starts to cry, and her tears mix with the water falling from above. She lets them both drown her.  

**Author's Note:**

> To keep everyone's hopes up, here's a teaser from the last chapter:
>
>> _They’re playing a game of who can leave last. She’s been watching him from her desk for much of the afternoon, since they got back to the garage. Every so often he looks up at her, and it’s small, it’s subtle but the tension had dissipated enough for the rest of the team to be noticeably relieved._  
>  She’s not going to let him win this one though, not by himself at least. She packs up her things, swings her bag over her shoulder, takes a deep breath. She thinks of confidence, determination, happiness _, and all her thoughts end up in the same place._  
>  She walks over, stands resolutely in front of his desk. “Get your things; I want to show you something.”  
> 


End file.
